The Puppet
by The.Altered.E
Summary: "Harry Potter thinks and sometimes fucks off in the third person." I'm not good with summeries so here are the facts: Lily and James Live. Neville could be the chosen one[unlikely]. Harry is supernatural. And Petunia isn't so bad.
1. Chapter 1

**A.N: first chapter I give you Potter from the outside, then it will be Potter's pov next chapters.**

**The Party**

Thump

Thump thump

Thump

That's the music, and this is me, Ashley McHale, awkward and nervous as I observe the room. I could come up with at least twenty different things I would rather be doing this very moment but, as Debra said, none of those things would be an improvement to my social life. So here we are, or I am, since Debra has since ditched me to find a dark corner to make out with Keith, her sort of boyfriend.

I'm standing by myself in a corner leaning on the chimney structure trying not to look so out of place but by the small smiles of pity I'm getting I know I'm failing. I nod my head warily along with the music thumping around the room when Matt Richards approaches my direction. He has two drinks in his hand and staring right at me. Pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose I try to become invisible as Matt Richards is the last person I would hope to garner attention from.

"Hi, Ashley right?" Matt shouts at me over the music

I can't find it in me to respond so I just nod.

"I saw you standing here by yourself and thought to give you some company." He says holding out a cup of swirling brown liquid towards me.

I want to refuse it, I know I should if the stories of Matt are to be believed but I can't bring myself to say a word. So the end result is me standing there like a total spaz awkwardly staring at the cup held out to me. Matt seems about to comment when a hand clamps down on his shoulder. By the look on his face I'm not the only one surprised to see Harry potter standing behind him.

Two things you need to know about Potter: one he is an incredible soccer player, the second is that he may be a functioning schizophrenic. Matt looks worried and I can't say I blame him, though I am relieved his attention has shifted from me.

"Hey harry, what's up man?" Matt says turning to Harry

Potter gives a tight smile "Just enjoying the party, what's going on here?"

Potter says it casually but Matt seems a bit pale. Matt says something quick to Potter and tries to push past him but Potter tightens his grip on Matt's shoulder making him pause. Potter whispers something I can't hear into Matt's ear. Matt flushes then raises the drink he offered me moments ago and relinquishes it to Potter's waiting hand before striding away. People around watch him go casting curious glances between him and Potter before landing on me.

Potter looks down to the drink briefly before turning to me. He gives me a warm smile before gesturing his head which I take as code for me to follow him, because he walks away navigating around other wary party goers. I hesitate a moment before I follow him.

People watch us leave and I wonder if I shouldn't just duck out of the party before Potter notices, but I hear Debra's voice in my head saying "You can trust Harry". That's another thing about Debra. She is friends with Potter and never fails to stick up for him when someone doubts his sanity. She's never told me where her faith in Potter comes from, so as I stare at his broad back I can't help searching the room for an excuse to skip out on him. We walk into a kitchen where the music is low enough to hear the sound of conversations from people milling about. A table in the center of the room is dominated by alcohol. I stand and watch as Harry pours the contents of Matts offered drink into the sink.

"So can I get you anything?" Harry asks turning back to me and gesturing to the gathering beverages.

I'm stunned momentarily at how…normal he sounds. I'm not sure what I expected to be his first words to me but I wasn't expecting them to be asking to get me a drink. Words desert me so I settle for a shrug. Harry smiles picking up two Styrofoam cups bringing them to the keg manned by a lanky tall guy who smiles at the sight of Harry.

"Harry Potter as I live and breathe" Beer guy exclaims but doesn't hesitate to fill the two cups in Potter's hands.

"Tom" Potter says with a nod

"Last person I expected to be making an appearance tonight" Tom says with a raspy laugh.

Potter chuckles "Yeah well Nathan politely explained it was being thrown in my honor before threatening to have my testicles if I didn't come"

Tom's smile stretches into a grin before he climbs atop one of the strewn kitchen chairs and catching everyone's attention with a sharp whistle

"Alright you lot, be in awe as we are graced by the presence of Harry Potter, without whom we wouldn't have our victory over Brighton and this here festivity. So how's about a cheer for Potter!" with Tom's finish the crowd now joined by others whom stopped to hear what was being said give a cheer.

Potter looks chuffed as he waves Tom off and he makes his way back to me. Caught up in observing I had forgotten he was getting me a beverage. Potter holds out a cup to me which I take with a blush I can't help. The term 'don't judge a book by other peoples perspectives' comes to mind as I think Potter seems like a proper bloke once you get past the messy tangles of black hair and drown in his piercingly green eyes.

"Are you alright?" He asks watching my internal dialog play out on my face

"Yeah" I say a bit too quickly and sharply. I feign a chuckle to hide my embarrassment.

"Thanks" I add when I'm done being a freak.

Potter nods. "I've seen you with Debra, you're friends right?"

"Yeah, I'm Ashley." I say in case he didn't catch my name through the three years we have been in almost every class together.

"She's the reason I'm here actually." I continue before taking a generous sip of my beer, then tastefully letting it spill back from my mouth to the cup.

Harry lets out a laugh "Tastes like heaven right?"

Blushing I shake my head trying to will the taste from my mouth.

"You don't have to drink it, just hold on to it and no one will try to offer you anymore spiked drinks."

I flinch at the confirmation that the drink Matt offered me was spiked but also feel complimented that Potter thinks guys would be lining up to serve me drinks, even spiked drinks. I sigh looking up from my cup to catch Potters eyes.

"This isn't exactly my scene." I admit

"That makes two of us, I'm sure you've heard I'm not exactly the person to be around when I'm off the pitch." Potter says taking a drink from his cup.

I shrug causing my glasses to slide to the base of my nose and attempt a smile "You seem pretty stable to me so far."

Potter returns my smile and pushes my glasses back up the bridge of my nose "Don't be so sure, I might just surprise you."

I don't notice until an interruption, but the scene must look odd, the two of us bespectacled outsiders beaming up and down at each other.

"Well then what's this Harry, not trying to get my best friend drunk now are you?" It's Debra walking to join us looking between the two of us.

Harry gives a nervous chuckle and we both shift stance away from each other to face Deb.

"We were just discussing our ineptitude for social situations." Potter says and I'm surprised at the ease at which he talks to Debra with.

Debra chuckles at that "You seem to be doing fine so far Mr. MVP."

Potter seems uncomfortable "None of that now, I'm just here to have a good time."

"Is that really why you're here? You've never really been the party type." Debra says looking serious all of a sudden.

Potter nods returning her serious look with a tired smile. "So I've been told but I'm turning a new leaf."

A smile blooms once more from Debra. "Right then, and how is that going for you?"

"Jury is still out but Ashley here thinks I'm pretty stable so far." Potter gestures to me.

Debra turns to me looking a little apologetic, I'm not sure if it's for ditching me for Keith or stealing Potter's attention from me.

"Sorry about abandoning you, you know how I get when I'm with Keith" she says to me.

"It's fine." I say but it's not.

"Here." Potter returns with two bottles of bright red liquid.

I didn't even notice him leave.

"I'm sure this tastes better than the beer." He says but he doesn't look so sure as he hands us the drinks.

"Let's head outside, I heard they're starting a bonfire." Debra says.

"Don't you need a permit for one of those?" I ask as we head out back.

"I guess we'll find out once the Pow-pow come a-knocking."

"Pow-pow?" Potter questions with a chuckle from behind me.

Deb chuckles and relates her infinite knowledge of police slang names "The 5-0, the Pigs, the Care Bears, the Ducks and Geese's-"

"I think we get it." Potter interjects, "and it's just Geese not...Geese's."

We have a good laugh about that while Debra leads us outside where more people are gathered around watching and cheering as some guys chuck wood together at the center of the gathering. Potter groans coming to stand at my side. We are standing at the top of the stairs leading to the backyard. In our elevated position we can see most of everything and everyone. Judging from the sloppy movements and uncaring jeers to light it up, I can tell most of everyone is either drunk or getting there.

"Well this couldn't possibly go terribly wrong." Deb says watching the spectacle.

"I'll go check it out." Potter says warily walking towards the crowd.

I twist of the top of the drink and take a sip. It's surprisingly very tasteful and sweet with only a hint of alcohol in taste. I immediately take a larger drink not minding the warmth spreading through my stomach. We watch as Potter clears the crowd and received with cheers and high fives from people Deb clarifies are football nuts or drunk enough not to care for Potter's rep. Potter talks to one of the guys holding a container of what I guess is flammable substance. We can't hear what they're saying, so Deb and I supply the conversation with what we assume is being said.

Potter: 'hey man this is really a bad idea, why don't you give me the flammable substance and we all just go get a beer.'

Guy: 'No man I'm already drunk. I would love nothing more than to burn something down with no regard for safety.'

Potter: 'Ok man let's do this, but let me get the fire started.'

We drop the game and watch in fascination as Potter takes the container and moves towards the pile of wood. Walking around the pile he pours out transparent liquid onto it. Coming around full circle he sticks out his arms drenching the inner pile with the last of the liquid. He turns to the gathering and gestures for everyone to move back. People only watch him with amusement clearly not intending to move. Potter takes a deep breath and I think he sighs before he turns to take a box of matches from flammable container guy. He strikes a match and the crowd stills, watching the match with anticipation. Potter turns to look at us with a shrug before turning and flicking the match at the foot of the wood. Fire ignites at the foot of the wood making a full circle around the wood before moving inwards and igniting in a blaze that makes my eyes water. Blinking back the tears I hear a roar go up as people cheer at the blaze. The initial blaze turns down a notch settling to be a normal steady bonfire.

Deb leads me to some lawn chairs where we settle down while Potter makes his way back to us. I lean back against the chair with a sigh and can't help the smile that stretches out on my face. All things considered this isn't so bad, considering I was on the verge of a spiked drink minutes ago.

Potter gets delayed with people trying to catch his attention, so Deb and I trade words while we watch him.

"I don't get it." I admit.

"Don't get what?"

"Harry Potter. I mean I've heard the rumors and thought they were a bit exaggerated but still, I expected a little truth from them."

"Harry's just misunderstood is all. If you know him past all the rumors and gossip then you'll know his a good guy." Deb says with a wistful smile playing on her lips. It's irrational, but I'm a little jealous she knows him better than I do.

"Did something happen between you two?" I ask with a suggestive eyebrow.

Deb seems a bit nervous from my question but sighs it out to give me a smile.

"Nothing like that, but we have a little history" She says before taking a swig of her own drink.

In other circumstances I would drop the topic then, but I've got a good buzz going and have no patience for sleeping dogs.

"What kind of history?" I ask watching Potter nervously comb a hand through his hair while he talks to a random girl.

Deb gives a pause and I get the feeling she's staring right at me but I don't turn to know for certain. A silence stretches and I'm in doubt she'll answer my question, but she does.

"Harry saved my life."

Ominously said without a follow up, her statement leaves a heavy feel. I want to know how he saved her life but I get the feeling if she was going to tell me, she woulda.

"Heavy." I say with an exhausted exhale, fixing my glasses up the bridge of my nose. More habit than necessity though.

Deb chuckles and asks how I came into Harry's company, effectively changing the subject, but I don't mind. In-fact I wanted to tell her how we ended up together. Not together together, just together you know.

I relate the story and she listens but we both keep our eyes on Potter who ducks away from attention and starts to head our way. I finish my tale a little before he reaches us, but Debs conspiratorial chuckles while her eyes dart between me and Potter are a little embarrassing.

Uncertainly smiling, Potter pulls a crate to sit on and asks, "Did I miss something?"

I shake my head in the negative.

A familiar song wafts from the house and reaches my ears. An idea pops into my head, and wanting to stay with the warm buzz that is currently making its way through my system, I decide to voice it. "Do you dance, Harry?

From the sideways glance Deb gives me, I can see she is happy with my initiative. Potter on the other hand looks considerably surprised.

"I can, to an extent. Are you offering to?"

A blush settles itself on my face as I quickly slide my glasses up again. No reason to back out now, I nod and take Harry's hand as he leads us to where the other party-goers are shuffling around in their drunken version of a dance. Thankfully, the music is upbeat and fast, so there is no embarrassment of doing a slow dance. We start dancing and weaving and laughing as we try to outdo each other in impersonating the drunken dancers around us. Harry pauses and grabs his head with a wince.

"What's wrong?" I stop dancing and look at Harry worry ridden. Too soon? He looks up as if just noticing I am there but a strained a small smile on his face.

"It's nothing, maybe just a little too much to drink." With that he starts dancing again, but I can't drop the feeling that something is wrong with him. Tom appears dancing behind Harry. It's as if he has drunk the whole keg of beer he was guarding earlier.

"Ey, Potter! Nice ta see ya finally scorin' with tha ladies!" He says whilst stumbling about in his drunken stupor and manages to trip over his own feet and land sprawled into Harry's back. Harry's arms wrap around me almost protectively as he struggles to stay upright against Tom's weight.

"Sorry 'bout that!" Tom drawls as he leaves, laughing and joining a drunken girl dancing.

"Are you alright?" Harry asks.

This is when I understand. Harry is nice, kind and apparently protective. He is an admittedly handsome, normal guy as well. I'm not sure where these rumors came from that had left me wary of him, but right now, I don't care. Because Harry Potter, schizophrenic or not is _hugging me and I don't mind. Well not exactly hugging really but it's a tomato potato kind of thing. _Not trusting my mouth at the moment, I simply nod. Harry lets me go with a deep exhale. His hands fly to his head again as he clenches his jaw in, what I assume to be, pain. Concerned now that this is the second time it's happened, I decide it's time we get away from the wild thrashing bodies and sit somewhere a bit quieter.

"Come on, let's go sit down." Harry nods and allows me to steer him to the chairs Deb and I were sitting on earlier.

"Ungh…!" Was the only warning I got before it was my turn to catch Harry. His hands are knotted in his hair, knuckles turning white from the grip and he is panting hard. I can feel him trembling in my arms.

"Harry! Hang on, I'll sit you down and get a glass of water! I can call a doctor or something if you like?"

Because I keep a doctors number on hand right? It's nothing but nervous chatter because I'm having a slight case of fear about me. Harry seemed to still in my grip before he slowly brings himself up.

"No... No, it's alright. I think I might just go home. See you Ash." See there? He called me Ash, giggle worthy but not now.

He turns and starts walking away. Every once in a while I see him stagger. Shocked a second by the nickname, I regain my senses and called out.

"Wait! You're not fit to drive!" The only answer I get was a backwards wave. Well I doubt he's driving anyway but what could I say, you're not fit to walk? I sigh and nearly jump out of my skin when Deb speaks up from behind me.

"What's wrong with Harry?"

"He said he had a little too much to drink and decided to go home."

"That's weird," Deb muses. "He had only one cup with him since we met up"

I looked back to where Harry's disappeared.

"I take it all back. I don't understand him at all." Deb gives me a funny look as I resign myself to the previously discarded lawn chairs.

"Want to have a three-way make out with me and Keith?"

That's Deb joking and this is me sighing.

T.B.C

This will be continued but not for a while.


	2. Chapter 2

A.N: This picks up around original timeline's Hogwarts 5th year. Assumption is the best way to get through this. Harry Potter's P.O.V

**Chapter 2**

**The Puppet**

To Say things have gotten a little complicated would be putting it mildly. I am half stood bent over the kitchen table with a mass of alcohol taking up my view. My vision is hazy as I try to get a grip but fail as my thoughts turn to tonight's events with a growing regret. Drops of blood stain the wood below to bring me out of my thoughts, thoughts of how I might have ruined a night which had been going so well. The blood is from amassed river trailing from my nose and I am slow and shakily clumsy as I wipe it on my sweater sleeve. I shift my focus from the part of my red sweater now turned into a deeper shade to get my bearings and observe my surroundings. The kitchen had voices and eyes when I entered but now I am only met with the eyes as they stare at me in wonder.

I Harry Potter am the worst kind of wonder.

I stand and take a deep breath trying to calm my erratic mind but it makes no difference with the tinnitus still in effect. Tinnitus, the high pitch sound I've been pretending not to hear the entire night. It pulses with impatience at my stalling and I know I have to get a move on. I ignore the people watching me and move out of the room. I navigate past party goers lost to the thumps of the music and head for the front door. I plan to leave and take to the night for whatever crazed situation might be in wait for me but inches from escape the high pitched noise takes up a higher pitch. The noise makes me cringe but with it I receive a knowing. I know that the calling I must attend to is in this very house.

I could sigh but I don't, instead I find the stairs leading to the second floor quite drawing. With thoughts that curse the forces that control me I take the stairs in twos. At the top of the stairs I met with the choice to either go left or right but neither looks compelling with the couples dotted about in intimate exchanges. My hands claw into my hair as the high pitched sound momentarily rises to a mildly unbearable level but again the message is received.

I need to hurry

With the pain I also know my objective lies in the hallway to the right, so I begin to power walk through it. I brush past people with a shaky disregard as I check into every door I come across, but none of the doors yield anything that catches my attention. I avoid the eyes that watch me barge into every room but I hear the commotion it leaves behind me and I know I need to hurry to avoid too many witnesses. The last door in the hallway refuses to open and I know this is where I am supposed to be. I step back, bring my foot up, and kick it off its hinges. The bedroom within offers darkness and I am momentarily blind to everything in the room but the smell of stale mouth breath alcohol.

A small gesture of my hand and the window blinds give cracks, not enough to cause wonder but enough to give me light. Semi darkness reveals a bedroom with two shapes on the bed and a fear that bleeds into my consciousness. I can't help a groan as I put my palms to my eyes and try to shake the fear not my own. I look back to the scene in time to recognize Matt as he rolls off the bed with heavy breathing and an uncertain anger. I walk deeper into the room and catch Matts frown as he recognizes me. My eyes stray from him to the other body in the room. I hear her sniffles and whimper before I see her to be Amanda Pearce. She is clumsy and off balance as she backs herself up against the headboard and hugs her knees to cover her naked chest. I notice Matt has followed my sight and watches her with a grimace, no doubt climbing down from his alcoholic high and realizing that this doesn't look as good as it felt.

A lesson I've learned in my past callings is in such situations talking complicates things, so as Matt turns back to me I make my move hard and fast. I swing my fist with little force but enough to send him crashing to the floor. He's out like light with no reference for a pun I'm afraid.

I turn back to Amanda as she brushes her dark hair from her face revealing tear tracks glistening off her cheeks. She's a slim brunette, not ugly, but not very pretty either ergo the best kind of victim for people like Matt. She stumbles off the bed and I can guess she is still feeling the effects of whatever unsavory beverages she ingested earlier.

She finds what used to be her upper clothing material and pauses as she holds the torn material in her hands. Her pause is in unknowing of what to do next and it brings a deep sadness within me. Confusion, fear, and uncertainty, these are her feelings made known to me. I quiver to keep myself in check as I take off my sweater and hand it over to her. She is slow in reaching for it, her eyes watching me in telling that I am Harry Potter, a psychotic uncertainty. Rumors of my instability have been greatly exaggerated. As soon as her hands close around the sweater I am quick to leave the room not wanting to hear anything she might say or make me feel.

In the hall it seems my dramatic performance kicking down the door has attracted a bit of a crowd. Nathan, the host of the party and Captain of our football team comes through the crowd with a wariness that tells me he is not very surprised I have caused an incident.

"It's been a fine party Harry" He says with an amused smile

"It has, but I think it's time I called it a night" I say understanding the out he has offered me without any drama.

He nods as I begin past him "Just so you know you'll be paying for a new door"

I chuckle while I give a backward wave and make for the stairs. I walk keeping stoic and try not to hear the whispers from the people I brush past. I can't help but wonder why it had to be a calling here where half the school is present, when usually it involves persons whom have little to no connection with me whatsoever. The only answer I can come up with is that this has been another lesson to be learned; Do not try to lead a normal life.

Got it.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs I know she's watching me before I turn to meet her eyes. Ashley stands with Deb and a boy I've seen hang around Deb a couple of times. Ashley makes to come towards me but Debs hand on her shoulder halts her progress before it begins. I give a small smile and a wave before turning away and heading for the front door.

This night has been a failure and maybe it's for the best that the good times came to an end before I could fool anyone with my reflective skills. I feel the need to claw at my head again as these thoughts that shouldn't hold so much weight cause me unreasonable distress. I mean with only little time spent with Ashley one shouldn't be this regretful. I ignore these thoughts and feelings to claw before moving on.

I catch my reflection on a mirror as I walk out of the house. My hair is messier than I last saw -probably from clawing at my head earlier- also I note the bloody dried smudge running a trail from my nose to my upper lip. I am a mess but that's nothing new, so with a hand to comb through my hair and a rub at the smudge I walk out of the house.

Outside I feel refreshed but that's not all that is to be felt. I feel everybody within my vicinity turn to watch me and begin to dread the coming school days.

My progress in leaving gives me notice of Will Parker bent over a shrub regurgitating his stomach contents. According to Will he and I supposedly go way back but I can't remember any of our time together before my homecoming, though I suppose we are somewhat friends since he's the only one on the team I can tolerate. On days when the callings weren't present I'd spend my time hanging out with him but lately those days are few and far between. That and I'm off my medication temporarily.

I don't pause for him to notice me but I sneak away the bottle of hard alcohol at his feet. The bottle jumps into my hand before I touch it and I can only hope no one saw that as I walk away. I walk quickly out of the yard and down the street away from the party. As I go I do my best to ignore the 'oh my gods' and 'what a freak's I hear. "Harry Potter's a freak", "Harry Potter is awesome", "weird", "creepy", "incredible" these are the words they cycle to describe me so it doesn't really bother me which ever they choose over my latest escapade. I turn the corner to a deserted street and think to take flight but my body is wary so I think it safer to find a bus home. I continue my walk with fading sobriety as the stolen bottle in my hands keeps me company.

I'm a ways away from the party and about to head for a near bus stop when a car honks behind me. I'm startled never having felt it, a point to my quick to stumble state. I turn to face a cab pulling up to my side. I notice Will is riding shotgun and looking ill, driving is his older sister Carrie who looks annoyed having to be his ride.

"Get in we'll give you a ride home" Will says slumped back in his seat.

I want to refuse but I'm exhausted so I hop into the back with the bottle between my sexy thighs. I think I might be starting to feel the spectacular now. Carrie gives me an all too familiar searching look but says nothing choosing to pull back into the road. Will and Carrie live in number 9 Privet Drive which means we hail from the same hood.

We could start a gang, but we don't.

Most things I know from before the accident revolve around a two systems. One is 'Petunia says' and the other is 'Will says' they can both be shortened to P.S and W.S. For example the tolerance of Wills presence can be explained by the W.S system e.g. Will says after a situation arose we teamed up to sell chocolates together for the win a trip to Paris competition and after that we became friends. Too bad I don't remember any of that. I don't remember much of anything from before the "accident".

I shake my head trying to clear my head, and focus back on Will who is slurring something.

"Sorry what?" I question.

"Missed your debut performance into the party scene" he says with an unmanly giggle.

"A crying shame" I say ignoring Carrie's eyes on the review mirror.

"Heard Matt was getting it on with Amanda and you smashed his head in for it" He says with amusement, and I can tell he doesn't really believe it.

"Something like that" I say not really having an excuse for what happened yet.

"Funny. I also heard she was really out of it and Matt was up to his old tricks again when you busted in to play hero"

"I don't think Heroes smash faces in"

Will smiles a small smile before leaning deeper into his seat effectively dropping the conversation. I guess he knows I'm not up to talking about it or haven't come up with another farfetched excuse for why I ended up in an odd situation. I've spun many tales in the past for the situations that I've found myself in but my lies are all they have so no one questions me. Instead they just whisper speculations amongst themselves, which turn out more farfetched than the truth.

It's in good time I see Number four come but Carrie doesn't stop to let me off.

"You've missed my stop" I say

"I'll need help with Will" Is all she says but her eyes catch mine again.

Heavy

Will is now out cold at her side so I don't argue. The ride to number 9 is short and silent between the two of us, which is how it usually goes -not to say we do this a lot or anything-. We pull up to number 9 and she kills the engine once we're in the drive way. It's a trip of uncoordinated stumbles that we get Will through the door, up the stairs, and into his bed. We are loud enough to wake the dead but Mrs. Parker doesn't make an entrance, so I assume she's not in...again. After securing him into his bed I bid Carrie a goodnight and move to show myself out.

"Wait" Carrie halts my progress.

I turn and wait

"I'll give you a ride. I'm on my way out anyway. My shift starts in a few minutes" she says walking past me not waiting for an agreement.

I follow her to the cab where I now ride shotgun but she doesn't start the engine, she sits staring blankly ahead. I know what she wants to ask but I also know she can't ask without the risk of bringing me into the secret she is unsure I know. I watch her contemplative features complimented by dark hair that only just strays past her neck, and I wonder why she's letting her life go to shit. She turns to look at me but says nothing, and just like the other times our eyes have met I wonder how she would react if I confirmed her suspicion. Or if I told her she is the reason why I have no qualms with killing bad people.

Bad people like her father.

"You're an odd young man Harry Potter" she says in her cleaner than mine English accent before starting the car.

"And you're a cab driver" I say looking away bringing intimate nose breath to the my side window

She drives to number 4 and I mutter another goodnight which goes unanswered as I get out of the car and shut the door. She pulls away and I watch her headlights vanish into the night before turning to face my home. I sigh remembering the whiskey left in the cab, maybe Carrie will find some use for it. I walk up to the front door while my right hand fumbles for my keys in my back pocket. It seems I don't need to get my keys out because as soon as I'm at the front door it opens, and Petunia's disapproving features greet me.

"Its past midnight Harry, where on earth have you been" she hisses at me though stepping back to let me in.

She thinks I've been doing drugs, quite the opposite really.

"Just hung out with Will all day" I say an excuse I know Will will validate if need be.

"Night and bloody morning by the looks of it and don't think I can't smell what you've been drinking" she says following me into the kitchen.

Opening the fridge I sigh warily "Could we please do this in the morning Aunt Petunia"

I never use the 'aunt' part unless I really need her to cut me a break. I don't find anything appetizing in the fridge so I decide to skip a late supper and think to head straight for to bed. When I turn to face her, I find her silent but watching me uncertainly. She wants to agree but knows I might be gone by the time she wakes.

"I know your life hasn't been very pleasant Harry, but" she begins

I groan

"But-" she continues "-it doesn't have to be that way now, we've been given a chance to start again"

I say nothing looking down at my bruised right hand

"A few years ago I had lost hope that things could get better for you, but look at you now, standing here in front of me" she says it so sincerely for a moment I think she's going to pull me into a hug.

"Dr. Abe gave us a second chance and I'm not going to let whatever odd behaviors you've been getting on with ruin it for us"

"Things are just a little complicated right now" I say trying to dodge having to give an actual response to that.

I move past her walking to the stairs. She follows.

"Then simplify it Harry. I see the bruises you come home with, and Dudley-" she pauses "-he tells me about…odd things happening" She says looking frightened.

She is concerned, very concerned. So much so I can feel her emotions spilling all over me, messing with my head. I stop at the foot of the stairs taking calming breaths and clearing my head of her emotions. I speak but don't turn to face her afraid I'll cave and tell her everything. This is not to say I don't want to, it's just that I know she isn't much a fan of "odd things" as she puts it, and I can't imagine her taking it well if I told her what I've been up to.

"I know you're scared something terrible will happen to me again, but just be patient for a little while longer and everything will be back to normal" I say not knowing if there's any truth to this but I can hope the callings will be less frequent like before.

"Have you been taking you're medication?" She asks looking worried and suspicious.

"Of course" I say still with my back towards her so I can't be sure if she believes me.

She doesn't say anything and I take the chance to trudge up the stairs and into my room before she calls me out on my B.S. I navigate my way to my unmade bed and slump backwards on it, staring up at the ceiling. The blankness of the ceiling offers me too freely to my thoughts so I turn on my side and admire the messy room in its semi darkened beauty. Well beauty may not be the right word for it, magnificently disordered would be a better fit.

The walls are bare, with no teenage obsessions to mar the pale blue surrounding walls. The floor is littered with comics and supernatural encyclopedias which are my guides at trying to understand what happens to me but so far proved useless apart from the T.K (telekinesis) references here and there. The rest of the floor litter is just a few days unwashed clothing and scraps of paper removed from my journal, I'll have to remember to burn them. A work desk rests in a lonely corner and is immaculate but for the handful of sand and a bucket of water that sit on top of it. The water and sand are remnants of experiments carried out on matter manipulation but so far proved unsuccessful.

Telekinesis seems the best fit for my 'abilities', see there I avoid to say 'superpowers' because I'm pretty sure saying that would be as lame as it sounds. Telekinesis and the sub topics below it help in developing other potential abilities, like the possibility of immortality if I could ever get around to manipulating life at a cellular level.

"Fu Fu Fu Fu" That, if you are in wonder is the dark chuckle I can't help having at the thought of immortality.

I shift my focus away from my delusions of grandeur as I hear Petunia's bedroom door close. I feel sorry for her but then again I don't really care for her at the moment. Her guilt for marrying the man who had enough hate inside of him to throw a child off the Eiffel tower is her cross to bear alone. Did you read that a second time? Well I join thee in that incredulity.

Will says that my family and I didn't much like each other before the 'accident', though I can't remember why. Will says I got into the Paris thing because of it. Apparently I thought winning a vacation to Paris would earn me likeable rights but instead I received attempted murder in return.

It's not that I don't like Petunia now though, I like her well enough. It's just hard to feel anything of my own when I'm off Abe's medication. I'm not really sure about the specifics on what was damaged during the fall but my state is the result of a partial lobotomy performed on me after my sort of recovery.

I can't remember most if not all of my life before the fall. The doctors say the fall –which I should have never survived- damaged parts of my brain. Speculation said a car cushioned my fall, I'm pretty sure I could ever tell anyone that with a straight face. I was in a comma for a few months while I recovered but when I did wake I never spoke and showed little intelligence. And that was right around the same time someone came up with the bright idea to give me a lobotomy. Which Petunia agreed to. I was fully incapacitated after that, that is until Dr. Abe showed up and fixed me right up.

Like magic, people said.

I was suddenly awake one day but I didn't where I was or how it is I got there, my memory was blank but for the learned facts I had picked up when growing up and a few snippets of foggy memories. The one certainty that kept with me was I am Harry Potter. Other than the memories Dr. Abe speculated I unconsciously blocked I was as right as rain.

God is good

That's what grumpy sarcastic Dr. Abe said anyway. The entire thing took a three year chunk of my life so I spent months being fed information I soaked up like a sponge at a psychiatric center. I was released just in time to catch my surprise eleventh birthday with my old new family. Recollections of my blank past make me uncomfortable so this is where the tail draws a line in the sand.

The taste of alcohol in my mouth makes me wish I had the energy to get up and brush my teeth but I don't, so I turn onto my back and wait for sleep to come for me. My last moments are filled with unintelligible thoughts and a passing erection.

(X_X)

I wake with queasiness in my stomach and a stale taste in my mouth, I also note I am awake earlier than I would have liked. These things put together give early dread. I still feel mentally fatigued from the last nights events but can't find it in me to go back to sleep. My first glimpse of morning comes through the crack in-between my curtains, where those birds chirp and frolic once more. They always come back to me no matter how many times I chase them off the sill.

I sit up shaking off the last bits of sleep that still cling to me. I feel uncomfortable having slept in my clothes but I ignore that and the pills on my bedside table. I need to get on with the morning routine before I can think about doing anything else. That is if my free will remains intact. Standing I dig into my bedside table drawer-still ignoring the pills- before finding the objects that go hand in hand with my morning routine. The marbles are cool against my left hand palm as I stand and walk out of my room. I head to the bathroom to relieve myself and focus my mind.

Flexing my fingers I find my knuckles have suffered little damage from meeting Matt's face. I walk into the toilet and lock the door behind me before approaching the toilet to pull up the seat. I still myself afore pulling out my penis to feel it throb for release against my hand. The marbles are clenched in my left hand before I let them free. They do not fall as one would expect but simply hang in the position they were in when my hand was clenched around them. I breathe out and the marbles unravel from each other and rise to form a wide circle around my head. They float there a moment before I make them all individually rotate in their axis and a moment later I make them revolve around my head, while still rotating in their individual axis. I keep them that way a few seconds before starting to pee. I can't help but chuckle as I stop the stream of release to keep my concentration on the marbles keeping them from scattering all over the floor.

Relief makes for bad concentration

I get through the pissing with two stops but I don't look too badly upon it, last night was complicated. I make my way down stairs and find the time to be 6:20am. Ten minutes till petunia makes an entrance and two hours before Dud makes his way down, maybe less if the smell of food gets to him. I head to the kitchen deciding I'll make breakfast for Petunia to appease her a little and hopefully prolong her decision to have me withdrawn from society. I'm still wearing last night's clothes from the faded black jeans and an old 'gone fishing' t-shirt to my defeated chucks.

I'm about to pull out the skillet, but pause when I hear it.

It being tinnitus, a high pitched ringing you would normally hear when the world grows too quiet. Sadly the world is never quiet for me. I keep perfectly still wondering if I can ignore it. I wait but the sound doesn't increase, it holds steady at a low pitch. I let out a breath of relief and decide to ignore it. The first lesson I learned doing this was that the world won't go to hell without Harry Potter, so let the rapists keep raping and the killers keep killing because right now Harry Potter has to get some breakfast in him.

Yes Harry Potter sometimes thinks and fucks off in the third person.

{- ''_-} bleh

I get through the morning reasonably enough, ensuring Petunia I'm still on my medication and not some juvenile gang banger who spends his nights on the other side of Sobriety. After I soothe Petunia's conscience I head back to my room running into the man of the house himself.

"Harry" He greets

"Dud" I acknowledge

A great relationship we have as far as I'm concerned, he lets me do my thing and I don't bother to worry what his thing is. I duck into my room intent on reading up or trying to manipulate matter around but the bed has a more pressing call and I'm soon asleep once more.

[-^-_-^-]

When I wake no sun streams from my parted curtains instead the sun has set and the night sky has settled in with the streetlights. There is a slow whine building within me and immediately I know it's coming before it hits. It hits me hard enough to make me seize as I try to draw in a breath.

The noise is everywhere and I can't begin to think on how to rescue myself from this pain. I try to sit up from the bed but end up rolling off and rushing to meet the floor with a thump. I moan to myself and try not to shit myself -a feat I can now accomplish-.

"Petunia!" I scream hating myself for it though I can't figure why.

I keep screaming her name because I can't think to do any other actions at this time. The door is flung open but it's not Petunia who barges in.

"What's all this then?" Dudley asks looking down at me with bewildered expression.

"Please" I say and god I hate myself for it. Still no clues to why.

He looks around not really sure what to do but I know what he's looking for and I could kiss him-but I wouldn't- for remembering how to deal with my episodes. I point a weak finger at a shelf behind him, where a small silver metal case sits. He gets it off the shelf, flips it open. There's a syringe and a bottle of clear liquid inside. He's shaking as he tries to draw out the liquid and the sheer time it takes makes me shake with impatience. I'm shaking so much I can hardly focus on Dudley who watches the room warily before looking back at me.

"How much do I take" He asks desperately.

By the look of him I can tell I must look an epileptic sight. I don't answer but try to shake my head telling him it doesn't matter and I guess he gets it because moments later a small sting comes to my thigh. I see are stars before the darkness and my fading into oblivion. I have been dead to the world for what feels like hours but immediately as I wake I hear the tinnitus though at a lower audible volume.

*Blink*

I sit up Dudley sits askew on his ass watching me with budging eyes.

"How long have I been out?" I ask not caring for his freak-out. I am grateful for his help before but I know I can't be right now.

"Wh-What?" He asks hesitantly as though not trusting his voice.

"How long was I unconscious" I ask again trying to remain calm as I feel the noise building again but it's fine for now because I'm a walking cesspit of high numbness.

"What are you talking about, look at yourself freak" He says angrily but looks very scared.

I finally take notice that I'm standing looking down on him, not sitting up, and dressed in a black t-shirt and some jeans. Multitudes of things run through my head but I can't deal with them right now. I can interrogate Dudley about what happened later, for now I needed to answer the call before Harry Potter gets fucked in the first person. I pull on my trainers to watch a drop of blood leave my nose and stain my shoe. I sniff and dab the t-shirt at my nose but don't give it much notice. I think to walk out of my room but find myself walking to the window.

The puppet now comes with actual strings.

Before I can even process what I'm about to do, -in front of Dudley no less- I'm jumping out the window. I'm moments from a broken leg when I catch myself inches from the ground. The noise is building so I don't dwell on the fact that my brain sending wrong signals to my body. Instead I bend the light particles around me for camouflage and watch as Dudley's face pokes out the window looking right at me but seeing nothing. I adjust my position in the air to an upright position before doing the superman thing, and taking off into the sky. Hypothetically speaking only god knows where I'm off to for there is only the ringing in my head to guide me.

I fly high into the night sky feeling the cold wind whip at my bare arms and making me shiver. Yes a t-shirt and jeans don't make for good flying material but I can't say I'm a spandex man. I drop the camouflage and fly faster heading towards London.

*Blink*

I'm standing in a grimy empty street, next to a bland looking building. It was only a blink and yet here I am with no recollection of landing here or where here is. I'm startled and shuffle about making sure there's no danger coming my way. Nothing. There's nothing and no one around me, just the deserted street. Tinnitus pulses and my knowing brings my notice to the broken down phone booth a few meters away.

*Blink*

I find myself stood inside the booth. Jesus.

*Blink*

This time all around me is dark and in fear and confusion I shuffle around feeling my surrounds. A flash of light from down a ways outlines my surroundings and I see I'm in a large hall of sorts. -An atrium- my knowing corrects. More flashes of light and I take off after them before I can catch myself for caution.

I'm starting to feel like I'm not in control of myself. Yes funny that now would be when I think it.

*Blink*

I'm in a...lift?

*Blink*

I'm on my knees moaning from a pain in my head as the high pitch noise attempts to scramble my brain. I know that if I don't hurry someone will die, so I pay the numerous small globes surrounding me no mind and take off towards the sound of crashing glass and flashing lights. I turn right on an unknown interval when someone suddenly appears in front of me. Darkness shrouds him or her? I can't tell, and a strange mask conceals his/her features. For effectiveness I'll assume it's a guy. Cloaked guy's grip tightens on what looks like a stick in his hand but before he can do something I sense would be detrimental to my health, I turn the stick to ash with a click of the fingers. I know acting out moves helps performance but gaddamn I just manipulated matter!. He looks to his hand stunned a moment and I deck him hard and fast before he can recover from the shock. He falls unconscious and I dearly hope it's a he for I have a sexist compassion against hitting women.

*Blink*

I am starting to accept the lapses but I am much annoyed I didn't even get a chance to see the persons face. I'm in a different scene again, hovering my feet an inch or two off the floor. I look from behind a mask and hold a girl tightly in my arms keeping her in place with a stick held threateningly to her neck. Her butt wiggles against me as she tries to put up safe struggle but I try not to notice. Too late right?

I fear my state of mind is unwell but I'll take the detached sarcasm over hysteria.

I look around to see we are in a large room with a large door of sorts displaying a deathly grey image. Two double takes later and I can look away from the… I don't know what to call it and my knowing gives me no clues. I stand in a circle of darkly cloaked figures that also have teenagers around my age in their arms. I think a pedophilic cult but I seeing a boy and girl standing in the middle of us gathered figures gives me pause to observe the situation.

The boy is holding one of the globes I had a passing notice of a while back. One of the cloaked figures stands partially in front of me without a hood, revealing his silver hair. He has a hand out gesturing to the boy to give him the globe -guessing-. I know there's talking going on between them, I can hear it but I can't bring myself to know what they are saying. The forces controlling me wish me not to hear what is said. Bummer. I may not understand this situation, but I can go for the action I think best for the moment. There is more talk between the boy and the man, but that doesn't matter right now, I'll attempt to decipher it later, now though I feel for the presence of everyone in the room.

My concentration on that gives the girl in my arms the moment she needs to elbow me and snatch the stick from my hand. She is quick to turn and face me, words forming on her lips while the stick is pointed at my face. I feel everyone's intent to fight as they tense, but I don't let it get that far. Before wiggle butt -who I note to be a ginger- or any of the others about to point their sticks can do whatever it is they expect to do, I click my fingers and most of them collapse.

I'm stunned to see some of them haven't collapsed. The boy in the center and the silver haired guy trying to negotiate with him still stand, along with them is me and four others that used to have conscious victims in their arms, victims they let crash to the floor. The boy in the center stands looking the picture of panic as he looks from one unconscious body to the next. A light slams into the boy before he can react and I'm astounded to see him collapse.

Did I do that? I don't think so.

I watch the globe that was in the boy's hand roll away from his hands and towards the silver haired man. My knowing pulses with a telling that I can't let him have it, so with a steer of my finger the orb quickly rolls around him and jumps to my waiting palm. The hooded figures around me watch me and their uneasy body language tells me they have figured I'm not one of them.

Sticks turn to me but multiple pops sound and new arrivals come to exist from nothing. I can feel my legs go weak as I see this but still I stand. The new arrivals disrupt whatever the other darkly cloaked figures had in mind for me as sticks are pointed and flashing lights color the air. Sparks buzz and bring the air alive as they fly from out of nowhere. A light come fast approaching me and I duck but my center of gravity is off so end up on my ass. This proves good timing because another light fly's past me from behind, micrometers from my head. I don't know what the lights are but I wrap a boundary push around me for protection and I am grateful to see the lights bounce off it.

More pops in the air sound and all the standing cloaks apart from silver hair cease to exist. The new arrivals in turn pop away in what I assume is pursuit. Silver hair turns to me stick out and advancing on me aggressively. I note he looks quite angry and desperate. He eyes me up and down untrusting but seeming thrown off by something, my good ass posture? I never get the answer.

*Blink*

I am groggy as Sun shines through a window. The curtains are fully parted and I am a genius to figure it is morning. My first look around the room tells me I'm back home in my room. I'm lying on my bed tense and fighting back a yawn, I feel like I've just gone from a hundred and twenty MPH to zero with the instantaneous switch from fighting arena to lying in bed.

It could have been a dream but a large part of me knows I'm not that lucky.

I'm slow in sitting up wary of any danger that might come my way but none comes. I swing my legs to the floor expecting cold wood under feet but warm fabric is what I meet. A black cloak and mask lay at my feet. I feel like I should be at a stand losing my mind over last night's events but turning to my side such thoughts are put on hold as I catch sight of the globe resting on my bedside.

T.B.C

Thanks for reading, next chapter will not be up until sometime next year. Got presents to give and liquor to drink. H.C & a H.N.Y.


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